Bluebeard
by Anonymous Goon
Summary: Bruce has struggled with healthy attachment ever since the death of his parents. He craves closeness, but never knows how to express it. Instead, he tries to force others to fit into his own life, no matter how many times this fails. Dark AU-unstable Bruce.


**Bluebeard's Fears**

**Disclaimer: No ownership to be had here. **

**This story centers on Bruce's desperate need for closeness, but inability to accept in into his life in a healthy manner. Darker AU inspired by breaking down and watching DC's Titans.**

**Let me know if you have any suggestions, or would like more chapters. **

I gathered fragile winged creatures in my hands, as though I intended to repair these wounded birds. But like a child with no medical knowledge, who tries to mend broken bodies with hopeful thoughts and shoe-box prisons, I tried to use my broken mind to mend another's. Like that child, I trapped these colorful birds in my cage, pretending that it was for their well-being, and yet secretly keeping them to ward off the ghosts of my own loneliness with the sound of their songs.

And even when the singing was sorrowful, I could not relent. For the shadows would grasp me in the silence. The fear would return. And as much as the screeches of wounded birds kept me awake, they were nothing compared to the nightmares without them.

The nightmares returned when Richard left. I admit now that I fired him out of jealousy and fear. He was spending so much time with the Titans. I thought he might reconsider this business of leaving all the time if incentivzed…return home. He was _supposed_ to be here in Gotham. He was supposed to stay…be the family that I-

He was _not_ supposed to leave me. Like they did.

I grew lonely as he created a new home in Titan Tower, and the nightmares crept back up, threatening to overtake me if I did not strike. They didn't need him like I did. Most of them had living relatives, or something similar that they could call home outside of the tower if they ever sought it out. His presence was not necessary to keep _them_ alive. I thought he would realize where he truly belonged… I grievously miscalculated.

I wouldn't have taken up Jason had Richard still been around. I wouldn't have put him in the danger which ended his life. But the emptiness in the pit of my stomach reminded me daily that the sun had left me. And as much as I cared for this new son, he wasn't _the_ sun. He waved the shadows back, but he wasn't Richard. And for that, my heart grew bitter in secret.

Richard could not replace my family. Jason could not replace Richard. Tim would not be able to replace Jason. And for all of the substitutions I tried to force into my life, I never could fill the hole in my heart. And as each proxy left, the hole only widened.

For some reason though, I could not stop. With each failed attempt, I only sought out more. Richard, Jason, Barbara, Tim…more still… With each addition, I made certain to intertwine our lives so deeply that they could never completely leave, even if they wanted to. And every time one did, I kept tabs beyond moral bounds that dare admit to Alfred.

The trackers beneath their skin, unbeknownst to them. The secret landlord of their apartments, causing leaks and problems that would land them in the Manor for weeks in wait of "repairs". The tweaking of their personal lives to ensure their closeness…Bludhaven was so far…the job offer that was too good to turn down, the whole agency behind it, was created to lure Richard back. The interview was unnecessary, the position nonexistent before I created it under a pseudonym. It just happened to work with the hours he kept as Nightwing. It just happened to fit the description of a dream job for his personality type. I would do the same for the others. I already had. The University that Tim had pamphlets for in his room at the manor just happened to branch out to Gotham to create a sister school. The donor was of course, never listed.

I had no right to keep them in Gotham, to manipulate their lives. But I have the means. And though Batman may be a hero, Bruce Wayne is a spoiled brat. And even if it suffocates them, I hold my songbirds close to me. Until the last of Bluebeard's victims overturns this tradition, I see no end.


End file.
